Capuccino?
by Silvern Draco
Summary: A young Ian Nottingham gets away from "home" and meets a very interesting young woman...
1. Midnight run

Cappuccino?  
  
Completed 10/3/02  
  
*Disclaimer As much as I would love to, I do not own Witchblade or the characters used in this story. This is written strictly for pleasure and the characters were used without the creators knowledge or consent....  
  
  
He ran, pushing his body to the limit. The intake of air stung his straining lungs, his aching muscles cried for him to stop. Only when he couldn't stand it any longer did he slow to a jog, forcing his breathing to slow, forcing his body to calm. If Irons knew he was out he'd be punished. Ian snorted softly, Iron's always knew...  
  
After his body had regained normal parameters he slowed to a walk, looking at his surroundings. It was late, or early morning, which phrase to use, he was not sure. He sighed when Iron's voice came to mind, 'If the hour is past midnight, young Nottingham, it is morning, dispite it still being dark out. The Romans designed the system, never forget how it works...' With a slight frown he pushed a lock of dark unruly hair from his forehead and behind an ear, "Fine, it is early morning..." His voice was low and Ian blinked at the amount of bitterness that was conveyed.  
  
The night air hung cold in the sky, but even at this ungodly an hour cars could still be heard in the distance. He was at one of his favorite spots. A little wooded area owned by the local high school. Ian came here when he wanted to forget, or when he wanted to think. A small bridge spanned the expanse of the creek that ran through out the property. Water, cold unfeeling water always soothed him. The sounds of it churning and lapping at the banks edge. With a single leap he lighted the rail of the bridge, balancing perfectly as he walked along it, staring down into the moving water.  
  
"I am well aware of the fact that young Nottingham is missing, Prat. And if you were half the security guard that you boast to be, you would have known an hour ago he slipped out of his bedroom window, negotiated the north wing roof and scaled the stone wall." Irons shut his book and held it up in the air for emphasis, "...And effortlessly bypassed your 'security' network, I might add..." Irons stood with his back to his employee. Fire light played off the walls and Prat jumped when sap snapped and hissed loudly. "Oh, don't worry about Ian, by any means, he's more qualified then you are to look out for this entire manor, but thank you for letting me know my young charge has taken off..." He turned facing Prat with an icy gaze, "You're excused."   
"Yes, sir..." Hurriedly Prat nodded and took his leave of Iron's study, nearly tripping over one of the wolf dogs that always seemed to be about.  
  
Once Prat was clear of the room another voice sounded "The boy's depressed, Kenneth..." A middle aged man emerged from the side of the study, his crisp white doctors coat contrasting with the entire room. He crossed his arms over his chest, walking slowly as he went, regarding the man who had hired him.  
"Nonsense..." Irons' sneered at Immo, but a flicker of pain flashed in his ice cold eyes. He turned, looking at the fire and moved to his easy chair. "The boy has everything that he needs to succeed in life, the best education, more then enough of the most sophisticated training equipment in computers, fighting and weapons. He lacks nothing." Carefully he laid the book down on a small end table by his chair, but never took his eyes off the fire.  
"Friends... A normal childhood, hell Kenneth, the boys' never even been out to the movies." Immo controlled his voice, but the emotion was heavy in his tone and he faltered in his steps toward the arm chair.  
  
"Ian is not a normal teenager Immo, you know this. He was created by me, to serve me and through me the Witchblade." Irons laced his hands in his lap, leaning his head back against the chair. "He has accesses the finest entertainment system there is... An outing to the movies would not provide him with any needed tutelage."  
  
"He's dangerously UN-socialized, he's showed signs of being extremely shy around the opposite sex, he has no inclining of the proper way to act around kids his own age. Hell he doesn't even know HOW to act his own age." Immo threw his hands up, he had been there when Ian was created, watched him grow from a fairly happy young child to the depressed introverted teen he was now, and it was breaking his heart. Iron's had adored Ian when they had first acquired him, showered affection upon him, but something had changed.  
  
"Ian has no need of these things, Immo! You had no complaints of the way I was raising him before..." Ice snapped in his voice and danced in his eyes, but close to the surface pain also swam in his eyes. 


	2. Whoa, Cowboy!

"I don't think its deep enough to drown in, if that's what you're thinking about."  
  
"Hu?" Ian snapped his head up, his eyes wide at the sudden sound of another voice. For a moment he lost his balance and almost toppled into the water below.  
  
"Whoa, cowboy!" A hand shot out, latching onto his arm and pulled him back.  
Ian jumped down from the railing, he misjudged his timing and stumbled back, falling painfully and embarrassingly on his backside with a loud smack. He remained where he was, too stunned that someone had snuck up on him, and even more at a loss that he fallen on his butt. In front of him stood a slender young girl. Her dark hair was slightly tousled and she had stuck her hands into the leather coat she wore.  
  
"You need a hand up?" She grinned down at him, arching her brows in question, then offered him a hand.  
  
"Uhh..." He stuttered for a moment then took the hand offered him. With a bit of struggling he got to his feet, still blinking and not saying a word. And whenever their eyes meet he would blush and look down at his feet.  
"Hey, bright eyes, you got a name?" She grinned at his shyness and lowered her head, trying to look him in the eyes, but every time she got contact he would look away quickly.  
  
"Nottingham, Ian Nottingham..." Instinctively he clasp his hands behind him and lowered his head.  
The girl frowned and shook her head. "Hey Nottingham, this isn't the army, you can look at me when we talk... What were you doing on the railing at this time of night anyway?" She moved away, sensing his discomfort and leaned against said railing, looking down at the water. A soft chuckle came from her, her dad would have a fit if he knew she was out, and taking with some guy that looked like he was 'headed for a life of crime!' She glanced at him quickly, he was still standing the same way, but his head was titled to the side and he was looking at her. He was dressed in all black, even his hands where clad in soft leather gloves. He wasn't homeless looking by any means, on the contrary all his clothing looked to be of the highest quality. 'Hot bod too...' Sara frowned, shaking her head slightly at her last though.  
  
"One could ask you the same question, My lady..." He looked down when her eyes meet his, but he forced himself to look up again.  
  
She laughed when he spoke, but stopped herself, she didn't want to offend him. He seemed very nice, and had the softest voice she had ever heard. "My lady? Where were you raised?" With a shrug she looked at him again, "Out, like you, getting away from home. Dad would kill me if he knew I was out..."  
  
"Then I suggest never going out again!" Concern flashed his eyes and he took a step closer to her a sudden and unexplainable surge of protectiveness flaring up in him  
Laughter came from the young woman, "He wouldn't really kill me!"  
  
Ian blinked. "Oh..." 'Stupid! She hadn't meant literally not everyone has Irons has a... father...' He frowned at his thought, his jaw working back and fourth.  
  
"Something wrong?" Ian looked upset, his eyes were hard and his jaw muscles were tensed. She frowned softly, reaching out to tap him on the shoulder.  
  
He jumped at the touch and blinked rapidly, clearing his mind of the thoughts that troubled him. With a sigh he smiled at the auburn haired girl. "No, nothing that any other teenager does not have a problem with." He moved around to the other side of her, looking out to the field. He felt odd, yet comfortable around her, as if he'd known her all his life.  
  
"Call me Pezz, most my friends do." She held a hand out to him, smiling warmly.  
His head tilted to the side again, but he took a hold of her hand, bringing to his lips for a chaste formal kiss, before bowing his head slightly.  
  
Pezz couldn't help but laugh this time. Here they were in the middle of the night, on the school's property and he was acting as if they were attendending the most formal of balls. "Okay, Gallahad..." She laughed again as he frowned at her comment. "Oh, hey its getting pretty cold out, you want to go get a cup of coffee? I know this wonderful little cafe that's open 24 hours a day."   
Ian watched her as she began walking as she spoke. He really should be getting back to the manor... 


	3. It'll stunt your growth you know

He sat, looking down at his Irish cream cappuccino with cinnamon and whipped cream. He felt all out of sorts. It was, to the best of his knowledge, traditional that the male pay for everything when out with a female. But it did not seem that way to Pezz.  
  
"You gotta stop drinking this stuff, it'll stunt your growth you know!" A friendly older man with a Brooklyn accent, winked at the young Pezz and before handing over her drink, frowned with mock sterness, "You father is going to arrest me if you keep coming here at this time of the night Sara! But at least you're not alone this time... Unless you snuck out to be with this young man..." He jabbed a thumb at Nottingham who was sitting at a table, staring down at his drink and swirling the whipped cream around with one of the little flat red straws.  
  
"Nope, picked him up on the way here." Pezz smiled innocently and snatched her drink up. "How's the drink Notty?" She plopped down opposite him and sipped her own.  
A soft frown marred his features as he looked up from what he was doing. "A bit strong, I have never had this kind of coffee before... Irons doesn't let me consume caffeine..." His voice was the soft timber it had been before, but with a hint of resentment mixed in.  
  
"Who's Irons? Your father? Step father?" Sara watched his face, the emotions that were so well controlled, but still slightly visible. Ian was intriguing, a bit odd and sure a little intimidating but she felt comfortable around him.  
A sigh came from her dark companion. He took a sip of his drink, blinking only slightly then began to speak, "He's... my father... Though lately Immo seems to be more concerned about me then Mr. Irons... All that seems to be of importance is my studies and getting my training done right..." Another sip, and less blinking and Ian looked up at Sara meeting her gaze.   
  
"Parents..." They both spoke, smiling softly at one another. Pezz chuckled and stirred her drink around. Ian seemed to relax finally and sat back.  
  
"I know how that goes, dad's on my back about my grades, if I want to get into a four year college I have to keep my grade point average up..." A snort came from her and she grinned at Nottingham, "He doesn't know I've decided to become a cop, like him."  
"Your father is a law enforcement officer?" Nottingham arched his brows thoughtfully. Sara defiantly showed a talent for being a detective, inquisitive, good at reading people.  
  
"What about you? What is your dad pushing on you?" Sara leaned forward, arching a brow. Her voice was low and empathetic.  
  
Notthingham considered the question carefully, trying to find an answer that would satisfy Sara, yet still have some grain of truth to it. "Military training, for now... Eventually he wants me to work for him..." His head lowered as he spoke, but he raised his eyes to meet Sara's, a gentle smile on his lips. With a shrug he looked back down and started whirling the foamy cream around with the straw once more.   
  
"Eww, military AND the family business, no pressure there... Hope you enjoy what your dad does for a living..." Blue green eyes rolled under arched brows, and Sara brought her cup to her lips, thankful she didn't have as much pressure resting on her shoulders. She only hoped she could be half the cop her dad was.  
  
Ian remained silent, simply watching Sara. He had never been outside of the manor souly with the intent of enjoying himself. A soft grin came to his face and he looked around the cafe. No one else was present, except the man that had served them and it was pleasantly quite. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and savoring the moment, for now, this very moment, he was only Ian, a regular teenager getting away from the pressures of his home . 


	4. Chocolate milk

"Good morning, I trust you slept well..." Irons walked into the dinning room with more then enough sarcasm dripping from his gaze alone. He took his seat at the head of the table, watching as Ian walked in from another side door.  
  
Ian said nothing, only bowed his head, waiting for Irons to tell him to sit. He had gotten back just before dawn, wired on caffeine and happier then he had been in months. Sara had been pleasant company, talking his ear off the entire time they were at the cafe. Not that he complained, it spared him the task of speaking about himself and his home life. She had given up on trying to find out about him when he had supplied her questions with vague answers. Though, he had to admit, a weight seemed to have lifted off of him when he had talked about the most troubling of things to him. Even if he had only used similes and metaphors.  
  
Irons watched Nottingham with an arched brow. With an exasperated sigh he shook out his napkin and placed it over his lap. "You may sit, Ian... Don't want your breakfast getting cold..." He waved a hand in the air and looked directly at the youth, his voice softening a bit. "I had Mrs. Rosenburg prepare your favorite, hash browns, four eggs over easy and... sausage links..." His eyes slowly moved to his own platter.  
  
"Thank, thank you sir..." Ian blinked, raising his head. Before he sat down he noticed the large glass of chocolate milk sitting by his platter and he looked once again to Irons.   
  
"Are you not pleased with your meal?" Kenneth keep his eyes on his own meal, daintily cutting up the pancakes. With his next words his voice faltered a little, but only a little, "You use to love chocolate milk when you were a child..."  
  
Ian's mouth worked, but no words came. With his hesitation his head lowered. "I'm very pleased..." He blinked softly remembering how he use to beg to sit in Irons lap as a child and have him feed him from his own plate. Irons would chastise him with the sterness of voices but always give in, lecturing him on how if he wanted to be a big boy, he would have to eat his own food, like Mr. Irons did. Softly Ian spoke slowly looking up at the man at the other end of the table, "Thank you... father..."  
  
Irons froze, his fork clinking against his plate. For a moment he blinked slowly. "You're welcome... Ian." He had not heard that word in years, not since Ian had been a boy. With a clearing of his throat he sat up straighter , collecting himself once more. "Mind telling me where you were all early morning long?" He took a bite of his pancakes and looked up at Ian, his voice casual.  
  
A grin came to the young Ian's face, one he couldn't hide no matter what he did and for the first time in years he looked up, raising his head to look at Irons as he spoke, "Having... cappiccino." 


End file.
